


Neon

by HappilyNervousCollection



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Road Trip, Dream POV, Friends to Lovers, Internal Conflict, M/M, POV Third Person Limited, Pining, Reposted for Edits, Road Trips, Slow Burn, dream is dense, inspired by several songs but Dream also just released a song called road trip huh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-17 04:28:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29465787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HappilyNervousCollection/pseuds/HappilyNervousCollection
Summary: After weeks of meticulous planning, George, Sapnap, and Dream agree to go on a road trip across the United States. Upon meeting George in person for the first time, something about their friendship changes, leaving Dream to wonder if its strictly just platonic. The neon lights shine bright at the edge of the horizon.--“I will hang up on you.” Dream threatens, and while usually it would be an empty promise, he’s dead serious about this. Sapnap must hear it too, because he sighs, resigning.“Fine. God, I swear you like George more than me.” He whines. It’s probably meant to be a joke, a friendly continuation of their bickering. It has the likely unintended effect of turning Dream’s face a warm pink, his eyes widening against the claims. That fluttery feeling he felt increases tenfold, and he struggles to beat it away.“I like you both the same amount.” He mutters, attempting to assure both himself and Sapnap in equal measures. If the rising butterflies in his chest and Sapnap’s unconvinced hum mean anything, it’s that he’s failing miserably.--song inspiration will be posted at the end of the chapters they inspired.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 20





	1. Chapter 1

Dream’s hands drum idly on the steering wheel. His shirt sticks uncomfortably to his back despite the air conditioning positioned directly towards him. Growing tension in his shoulders and legs has him desperate for a break, and as he crests over the hill on the I-95, he sighs and flicks his turn signal on. A blue sign up ahead indicates a rest area, providing him with some small relief as he pulls in. A few families mingle about, obviously on different summer vacation trips. Their cars are packed to the brim, with tired parents and children alike wandering about in a sort of twilight zone haze. He can’t say he’s that different though, as he finds an open spot and lets himself slump forward. 

His head feels cottony as he rests there, face slumped in his arms as he fights off sleep. He sits up after a minute or two and steps out from the car, grabbing both his wallet and phone. He twists his back, groaning at the several satisfying cracks that result. The air around him isn’t quite as hot as the Florida heat, but that hardly makes it any more bearable. He sighs, locking the car and walking towards the main building, where he picks up a travel guide and counts his change for the vending machine. He gets himself a cold drink, something caffeinated to get him through the remaining four or so hours. 

The shade of the covering is nice. It’s the only part of the open space that’s been protected from the constant heat outside, and Dream takes full advantage of that, spending more time there than is probably necessary. Mind still a bit hazy, he pulls out his phone and goes to his contacts, making a call. It picks up on the second ring.

“Yo Dream, how’re you holding up?” 

“Dude, my back is killing me.” He says, sighing against the phone. He’s always thought his car seats to be more comfortable than this, but that might have just been wishful thinking. Either that, or sleeping in a cheap motel the night before simply wasn’t a good idea. At least he’ll have a somewhat decent mattress that night, once he reaches New York. “I still have four more hours to go.”

“Where are you right now?” Sapnap asks, and it takes Dream a second to look around before he finds the sign. 

“Dale City rest stop.” There’s a hum from the other end of the line, followed by a small noise of pity. 

“Shit man. That’s the last rest stop I can see on I-95. Sorry.” He says, and Dream groans at the information. Unless he has to take a piss or stop for gas, he’s probably going to be trapped in his car for the remaining four hours. Maybe he can try adjusting his seat before he gets back on the highway, or keep the A.C on for a few minutes just to cool down the vinyl. Anything to make his shirt not stick to his back again. “Look at it this way, only four more hours until you get to see our dear Gogy.”

He can’t help but laugh at the way Sapnap says it, shaking his head a little. “That’s true.” He says, unable to mask his amusement. They’ve been planning this road trip for months now, and it’s taken a lot of careful planning to get it right. Researching what places would be most interesting, how much the gas and motel prices would cost, as well as how much driving they want to do in a day. After this, Dream can definitely say for certain that he’s not going to do more than two hundred and fifty miles per day. It’s just too much.

It’s probably why Sapnap made him promise to call after he told them that he was going to be driving for ten hours straight. He’d laughed at the suggestion at first, but now every word is keeping him a little more grounded to reality, and he can’t be more thankful. Sapnap laughs a little on the other end of the line, almost giggling. “How d’you think he’s gonna react when he sees you?” He asks, and that familiar bubble of excitement begins to form. 

When they talked about meeting up, something that got brought up every time was how George would prefer to see him in person as opposed to through a screen. Sapnap didn’t quite have that preference, so he’d seen Dream’s face first, and then bragged about it to both their fan base and George for the better part of an hour. But now, they were actually going to meet up. George’s flight was supposed to end in about four hours, and Dream was going to meet him. 

“I have no clue, to be honest. He’s probably going to be really tired from the flight.” 

“Tired enough to fall right into your arms?” Sapnap quips back, and Dream can’t help but chuckle a little at the remark.

“Maybe. I’ve been told they’re very comfortable.” He hums, lips pulling into a smirk. 

“I’ll be the judge of that. Hurry up and get to Texas, pussy.” 

He chuckles. “Okay, okay. I will.” He says, tone mildly exasperated by both the flirty remarks and the insult. “I just have to go to New York first.”

They don’t talk too much longer. As pleasant as the conversation is, he still has a few hours to drive, and he’s supposed to pick George up from the airport. He’d rather not keep him waiting. So, they say their goodbyes, and Dream ends the call. 

He starts walking to his car, unlocking the doors and sitting back in the driver’s seat. The vinyl brands his back and thighs as he sits. Immediately, his hand goes to the A.C settings, putting the fan on its highest setting and the temperature as low as it can go. Almost to mock him, the A.C blows out hot air, only making the situation worse. It will probably be a few minutes before the cold air actually kicks in. He takes a sip of his drink in retaliation. 

When the cold air finally starts to pick up, he sets his phone to one of his travel playlists. It makes the ride a little more bearable as he gets back on I-95, continuing his northbound drive. Song after song plays, exit signs passing every couple of miles and different state lines being crossed. The greenery of Virginia gradually transitions to vast cityscapes, skyscrapers lining the horizon. Golden light spills over the highway as the sunsets, dots of light sparkling through the dark of Fort Lee, New Jersey. Excitement pushes at him as he crosses George Washington Bridge, bubbling up and out of his mouth as he shouts, “Yes! Fuck yes!”

Across the bridge is the state of New York, and Dream cannot be any happier. It’s only a few more exits from there, a simple few minutes of driving, before he finds himself parked at the LaGuardia Airport. The place is pretty busy, with flights still coming in at the late hour. Dream welcomes the colder New York air as he steps out from the car. It’s a short walk to the baggage claim, where he waits for George to appear from the crowd of people. He shoots him a text indicating his location. 

As he waits, a sort of nervousness builds in his chest, and he messes with his phone to try and wait it out. He thinks back to his call with Sapnap, and wonders how George will react to seeing him. Logically, he knows it won’t be anything negative. He’s a fairly attractive guy. It’s just that something about this feels strangely personal, and he begins to understand why George wanted it to be like this instead of through some screen. Even if the thought makes his breaths feather light. 

An announcement plays, and Dream looks up just in time to make eye contact with George. His eyes widen, breath catching in his throat as he stares. He’s dressed in a bright red hoodie and dark washed jeans, with a backpack slung over his shoulder and his hair messier than usual. The airport lighting is by no means flattering, highlighting just how exhausted the other looks. And yet, Dream can’t help but feel his heart rate pick up, the bustling noise around them sounding mute in comparison to the sound of his pulse echoing in his ears. 

“Dream? Is that you?” George asks, sounding just as nervous as Dream feels. At least the feeling is mutual. Dream swallows the lump in his throat, offering George a smile as he nods. He stands from his place on the bench, crossing the few feet dividing them until he’s stood in front of him. The height difference is more noticeable now, with George having to crane his neck just a little in order to make direct eye contact. His eyes are wide, mouth slightly agape as he stares shamelessly. Dream does just the same, admiring and taking in the details even the highest resolution camera couldn’t pick up. 

“This… This is so weird.” George murmurs, and Dream can’t help but laugh a little at that. Out of all the things for George to say upon first seeing him, that had not been one of the things he expected. George laughs a little, giggly and elated as he watches. “That’s so weird! Hold on, wait. Say something.” 

“Why did you say this is weird? Out of all the things-“ Dream replies, unable to help his laughter from seeping into his voice. 

“Well it is.” George huffs, lips still pulled in a small smile. “I can see your lips move when you talk. That’s so weird to look at.” Dream can’t help but smile at that. It’s honestly kind of cute how excited George is about this, and he can fully understand the feeling. If not for the fact that he’s already seen George through his webcam countless times before, he’s sure he would be just as excited. “It’s not bad. It’s just different.” He assures, and Dream nods in understanding.

“Yeah, I get it.” He says. There’s a lot he could say on the matter; like how up close and personal he can see the varying tones to George’s face, and how his hair is so messy after the long flight. Or how George’s camera is typically at eye level, and Dream’s gaze is very obviously not, leaving him with a new perspective of the other. That last detail feels particularly intimate. George can stream for thousands upon thousands of viewers, and yet Dream is the only one who gets to see him like this, close enough to touch and feel. He doesn’t say any of that, though, and instead settles on, “It’s pretty weird. You’re a lot shorter in person."

George flushes a little, rolling his eyes. “I’m not that short. You’re just really tall.” He replies, and Dream offers him a shrug and a lopsided smile.

“Sure. Have you got your luggage yet?”

“Not yet. I was about to.” George replies. They both turn to watch the baggage claim, and Dream steps up to George’s side. The conveyor belt hasn’t started dispensing the luggage yet, leaving all the passengers of the recent flight to stand around and wait. A few minutes pass before George turns to look at him. “So, how was your drive?”

Dream groans. 

“I can’t wait to sleep on a good bed. Stopping at a motel last night was a big mistake.” He answers, and George laughs at his tone. It sounds dramatic, he knows, but it’s the truth. There’s an ache between his shoulder blades that he can’t quite shake, and he’s not sure if it’s from driving for so long, or from sleeping on a terrible mattress the night before. He’s sure both things made their contributions. “What about you? How was your flight?”

“Good. It was really long, though, and some woman brought her baby with her.” Dream visibly winces at the thought. George’s flight had been nearly nine hours long, and the idea of being stuck there with a crying, screaming baby sounded just horrible. Some kids were good with flights, but with how long the travel time was, Dream highly doubted a baby could be that well behaved for that long. 

They spend a few minutes discussing different aspects of their travels before the baggage claim starts up, spewing out suitcase after suitcase. The haze of the light night airport overcomes both of them, and they stand, searching for the right bag. When George finds his suitcase, the two of them head out to where Dream’s parked his car. Dream fishes his keys out of his pocket, unlocking the car and setting George’s luggage in the back of the car. He walks around to the driver’s seat after, opening the car door and sitting down. 

Prepared to talk to George a little more about their plans for the next day, Dream’s eyes widen as he finds the other curled up in the passenger seat. His cheek is pillowed against his palm, head tilted slightly to the side as he rests. A feeling settles into Dream’s chest, and he blames it on both his excitement and his exhaustion from the day. “Are you sleeping already?” He asks, keeping his voice quiet. 

“‘M trying to.” George murmurs right back, and Dream tries to keep his chuckling quiet. It reminds him of the nights they would occasionally spend on Team Speak, whispering into the mic and talking into the late hours of the night. The clock on the radio reads 9:46, contradicting that idea. George is maybe a few minutes of smooth driving away from falling asleep in the passenger seat, and it’s not even that late. Where usually Dream would try to keep him up, either whisper-yelling into the mic or cracking jokes he knew would make the other laugh, he stays silent. He pulls out of the parking spot and begins to leave the airport, using the GPS on his phone to locate the nearest hotel.

Occasionally, he looks back to George, just to see if the other has woken up at all. The city lights cast a warm glow across his face, illuminated features providing no indication of him being awake. It’s almost a tragedy when Dream makes it to the Holiday Inn, sitting in the parking lot for a few seconds longer. It feels cruel to wake him up now, but if today’s taught him anything, it’s that the vinyl seats are deceptively comfortable, and will leave George complaining if he falls asleep there for the night. 

His hand gently clasps around George’s shoulder, nudging him. “We’re here, George.” He murmurs, retracting his hand the second George makes a displeased sort of noise. 

“Already?” He asks, voice groggy as he sits upright. Dream nods. George stretches as much as he’s able to in the limited space, then sighs, unbuckling his seatbelt. Dream turns the car off and the two of them make their way around to the back of the car, where they grab their luggage. Dream closes the car and locks it, and the two of them head into the hotel to check in. George squints against the harsh lighting while Dream talks with the woman at the front desk. She hands him two keycards and Dream nods appreciatively, bringing George to the elevator so that they can go up to their room.

The hotel room is completely generic, with two beds set against the west wall and a television across from them. The wall across from the door is almost completely windows, blinds and curtains drawn back to reveal the city around them. George steps to the bed closest to them, releasing his hold on his suitcase and climbing into bed. Dream gives him a look, amused as he watches him squirm under the covers. “Don’t you want to take a shower before you go to sleep?”

“I can shower in the morning,” He says. “Besides, you need it more than I do. You smell terrible.”

Dream flushes pink, but it’s not like he has any rebuttal. So he nods, and sets his things down by the empty bed. He reaches into the suitcase and pulls out a set of travel sized toiletries, along with a toothbrush and tube of toothpaste. With everything in his arms, he goes into the bathroom attached to the room, setting everything down on the counter. Each article of clothing removed makes breathing a little easier, no longer plagued by the almost dampened fabric clinging to him in awkward places. He sets the clothes in a pile and takes a good thirty seconds learning how the shower works before stepping inside. 

When the warm water hits his back, he sighs audibly, letting it wash away the tension. He takes his time, thoroughly washing his hair and scrubbing himself down with the bar soap the hotel staff left on the shelf. Exhaustion creeps into his system, begging him not to leave the comforting warmth of the shower. Tragically, he opts not to fall asleep under the pressure of the water, and instead turns off the spout and steps out. The hair on his arms raises as the cold air strikes, encouraging him to quickly grab one of the towels and dry himself. It’s only once he’s done that he realizes that he forgot to bring a change of clothes with him.

He sighs, wrapping the towel around his waist. There’s no use putting on the same dirty, smelly clothes right after showering. Besides, George is probably asleep, considering how quickly he managed to fall asleep in the car. Dream’s exhausted, unable to really care for the situation as he brushes his teeth and collects his clothes. He turns the bathroom light off as he leaves, squinting in the low light as he finds his way back to his bed. He sets his clothes aside, rummaging through his suitcase in search of a fresh pair of boxers and a tank top. They’re found easily enough, and he stands to get changed, pulling on the boxers before slipping the tank top over his head.

An odd feeling settles in the back of his mind as he gets dressed, and he pointedly ignores it as the fabric passes over his face. Still, he makes sure to close the curtains and the blinds before climbing into bed, the action easing away whatever emotion had started to build. In the dark of the room, a silence forms, the covers not quite warm enough to be comforting yet. It’s a slow process, and it allows him to listen to the varying sounds of the city- mostly cars and distant traffic. As sleep begins to claw at the corners of his mind, he murmurs a soft, “G’night, George.”

A voice, soft and tired, replies, “Goodnight Dream.”


	2. Chapter 2

Dream wakes to a dark and quiet room. The hotel blankets are still a little stiff despite his rest, leaving him snug under the covers. Minutes pass as Dream’s surroundings make themselves clearer, mind being pulled from its rested state. The sound of running water makes itself apparent in the quiet of the room. 

Turning in his bed, Dream looks to the curtains, tugged closed from the previous night. He doesn’t quite want to get out of bed just yet, blankets hugging him with a comfortable warmth. He waits a few minutes, coming to terms with the idea of leaving, and sighs, forcing himself to stand. Hairs on his arm raise, exposed to the cool hotel A.C. He pays it no mind, drawing the curtains back to look out across the city.

A soft breath leaves him, relieved. Where he’d thought a light rain had overtaken the city, the gentle morning light sits in its place. A hazy gradient of orange to blue decorates the sky, accompanied by the occasional cloud. The streets are relatively inactive, with only the occasional car passing by. Dream stands there for a while, watching the early morning. The sound of running water stops. 

At the sound of an opening door, Dream turns his head in time to see George step out from the bathroom. His hair sticks plastered to his forehead, dripping beads of water from his temples down his jaw, until it drips down his chin and onto the floor. His clothes are bundled in his hands, a towel wrapped around his waist. His eyes widen as he catches Dream’s gaze. “Morning.” He greets, voice soft, gentle in the way it breaks the silence. George’s face is dusting pink, and Dream’s willing to blame it on the cold wracking through the room.

“Can you turn around?” George asks. Dream quirks a brow at him. 

Neither one of them makes a move. George offers him no explanation, leaving Dream to shrug his shoulders and turn back to the open city. He tugs the curtains until they’re mostly shut, with only a small window for him to stare out of. George sighs behind him, soft in a way Dream is acutely aware of. He notices every little sound George makes behind him; the sound of the towel falling to the floor, the sound of his suitcase’s zipper. Whether he’s actively trying to listen to it, he’s unsure of. 

“I wasn’t going to stare at you, you know.” Dream says. He’s not entirely sure why he says it, but the words leave him all the same. George gives a sarcastic hum behind him.

“Sure you weren’t.”

“I wouldn’t.” He replies. His words are soft. “Unless you wanted to put on a show for me.”

It’s a joke; or at least, that’s what it’s meant to be. Something typical for their dynamic, friendly flirting and banter. His tone betrays his intent, leaving George’s breath to catch with an audible hitch. The sound brings butterflies just underneath Dream’s skin, tips of his fingers tingling from where his hands rest at his sides. Silence falls over the room, ringing heavy in Dream’s ears. He waits a moment, then turns his head so that he can see George’s reaction. He catches the other with his shirt in his arms, not yet pulled over his head. George’s face goes red.

“Dream-!” He shouts, and Dream turns his head back to the window so quickly it almost hurts. There’s a beat of silence.

Then, Dream laughs. Giggly laughter bubbles unrestrained out of his throat, a smile stretching up his face. He can hear George scoff behind him, somewhere between exasperated and annoyed. “I was kidding, George.” He assures, words falling light. They’re familiar for their dynamic, and Dream’s thankful for that. It’s like a tether of sorts, keeping things from going too far. Keeping him from pushing into a place unknown. Dream catches his breath from his laughing fit, smile sitting shaky on his lips. “How long does it take you to get dressed? Seriously, this is taking forever.”

“I’m done, I’m done already.” Dream turns around. George’s brows furrow at the sight of his lopsided smile, lips tugging into a frown. His face is pink. Dream thinks he likes the color. “God, you’re so annoying.” George huffs, pulling a few laughs out from Dream’s chest. He watches as George’s frown begins to falter, trying desperately not to curl up into a smile. It falls apart the second Dream levels his gaze at him, and he tilts his head to the floor, trying to keep his grin out of sight. His fingers come up to rub at his temples. “Do you plan on going out in your boxers, or are you going to get dressed?”

Dream’s face warms. Ah, right. He gives George a nod, and the other turns so that he’s facing the opposite wall. It’s a kind gesture, but really, Dream wouldn’t mind. He doesn’t vocalize that thought of course, but he can’t help but think it as he opens his suitcase and retrieves his clothes for the day. He decides on a pair of jeans and a hoodie, pulling them both over what he was already wearing from the night before. It only takes a few minutes after for him to be fully ready, his teeth brushed and his hair fixed. Once that’s all done, he and George head down to the hotel lobby for breakfast. 

They finish after a good few minutes, filling themselves with complimentary bagels and small tins of fruity cereals. The morning comes with blue skies and busying streets, cars making their routes into the city. Dream feels relieved when they walk past his car in favor of taking the subway. Considering how much driving he did the day before, and how much more driving he’s going to be doing throughout their trip, he’s thankful for the break. Besides, given the distant sounds of honking cars and shouting, he’s positive he wouldn’t want to deal with day-time New York traffic. 

Despite it being summer, the early morning greets them with nothing but cold air and drafts of wind that weave through the buildings. It makes him glad he packed a hoodie or two. The air around them only gets colder as they find the nearest subway station, descending down the stairs and below the city streets. People crowd around them, mostly wearing various business attire. After paying for their train passes, they wait amongst the crowd, a buzz forming from the various conversations. 

It doesn’t take too long for the train to come by, and when the doors open, Dream takes hold of George’s arm and pushes his way inside. People push past in both directions, either fighting to enter the train or trying to get off. With a bit of effort, Dream brings them both to a pair of open seats, where they sit down for the duration of the ride. An announcement plays and the doors shut. The train leaves the station shortly thereafter.

While it isn’t exactly a short ride, Dream’s willing to bet it’s faster than taking the main roads. So, he gets comfortable in the seat and pulls out his phone, checking his social media. While planning this trip, all three of them had decided to produce content and streams to keep their fans at bay. It had mostly just been them talking, wandering around random Minecraft worlds. Still, it had managed to get _‘DREAM IS LIVE’_ trending for the umptinth time, with a few different clips being reposted around Twitter. 

He’s happy to see people enjoying their content, and happier still when he sees that he hasn’t been dragged into any Twitter drama. That was the one thing he couldn’t really predict, so he was really hoping he wouldn’t be accused of something dramatic. 

Different stops pass, giving people a minute or two to either leave or board the train before it takes off again. Dream finds his gaze drifting back to George through the duration of the ride, before quickly flicking his gaze anywhere else. The other is messing around on his phone, seemingly unaware to all the times Dream’s gaze finds a home in him. He looks away all the same, as if George will notice at any moment and tell him off for it. 

It takes about an hour before they reach their destination, the announcement playing over the intercom a minute or so before their arrival. George looks up at that, catching Dream’s eyes and bringing a pink flush to his face. Luckily, it seems George doesn’t think it's anything out of the ordinary. “That’s our stop, right?” He asks, and Dream swallows the growing lump in his throat, nodding. 

When the train comes to a halt, Dream takes George’s arm once more, guiding him through the crowd and off the car. He lets go the moment they’re off the train, and the two of them walk side by side as they exit the station, emerging at the corner of Bryant Park. 

Trees line the edges of the open field, along with metal chairs and tables. A few kids run around the park, with parents or nannies sitting nearby. As Dream takes in the sights of the park, he spots something, causing him to snicker. “George.” He says, nudging the other. George gives him a look, then follows his gaze. Dream laughs as George rolls his eyes.

“I swear, you’ve been reading too much fan fiction.” George remarks, and that nearly makes Dream lose it.

Set up in this corner of the park are multiple tables with chess boards, as well as a trailer with even more games. All the pieces are already set up, and it’s early enough in the day that hardly anyone is sat there. Dream flashes George a grin, lopsided and flirty. “Come on, don’t you want to play chess with me?” He teases, restraining his laughter as George shoots him a look. 

“You’re the worst.” He mutters, but the way his lips twitch up at the corners says otherwise. “I’m probably going to beat you anyways.”

“We’ll see.” Dream answers, that competitive streak flaring.

They do see. Evidently, Dream is much worse at chess than he originally thought. It’s either that, or George is just really good at the game. George has a smug smile on his face as he moves his queen, head slightly tilted. “Checkmate.” He says, bursting into laughter as Dream’s eyes widen, looking over the board as if he’ll manage to find a way out of it. He groans, slumping in his chair once he realizes he’s been beat. 

“Does this mean you’re paying for lunch?” George says, and Dream sits up, eyes widening. 

“What-?” He asks, and George laughs at him, smiling so wide that his eyes squint shut. He’s almost turning pink with how hard he’s been laughing. “We never agreed to that.” Dream retorts.

His words force George to calm down a little, his gaze leveling back at Dream. The eye contact makes him giggle, having to avert his gaze back to the chessboard to keep himself from bursting. “You’re right, we didn’t.” George says, voice strained and elated. “But isn’t New York pizza supposed to be really good?” He asks, causing Dream to quirk a brow at him, then nod.

“It is.”

“And you lost the chess match. So you’re paying for it.” George says simply. They hold eye contact like that for a second, George’s expression smug where Dream’s is petulant. He sighs.

“Fine.” 

“Yes! Let’s go-!” George shouts, beaming. The sound of it makes Dream’s agitation melt, expression mellowing into a soft smile as he watches George celebrate. It makes something warm grow in his chest, something that he dismisses with an eye roll and an exasperated huff. 

It’s still too early for lunch, and neither one of them is even hungry yet. So, they decide to walk around the park. The day is warming up nicely, the sun shining high above them as they walk around. 

When midday strikes, George is eager to look up the local pizza places on his phone. It doesn’t take him long to find the nearest one, and they use the navigation app on his phone to walk there. It’s a nice place a couple of blocks away, and the two of them sit down and order a pizza. It smells incredible once it arrives, making Dream’s stomach growl with a hunger he didn’t know he had. He quickly grabs a piece and takes a bite, only to nearly burn his mouth. George laughs as he watches him open his mouth, exhaling quickly to try and get it to cool.

Despite that, it’s actually really good, given it’s had enough time to cool off. Dream takes the check once they’re done, and they spend the rest of the day wandering around Central Park. The trees there stretch high, leaving dots of golden sunlight to poke through the canopies and litter the ground. They visit the Belvedere Castle, as well as the Museum of Natural History. It’s later in the day when they stop at Bow Bridge.

They take a break from walking, instead spending a minute watching people pass by, either on boats underneath the bridge, or on foot as they walk past. The park is peaceful, with the sounds of birds and cicadas creating a nice ambiance. 

Somehow, Dream’s gaze always finds itself settled on George. At first, he doesn’t notice, simply letting his eyes wander to the other without restraint. Then, all at once he realizes himself, and does his best to fix his gaze on anything else. Because despite the flirty banter they may have, Dream knows George isn’t the best with emotions, and he doesn’t want him to shut away. 

And yet, regardless of that knowledge or Dream’s own self restraint, his eyes wander. George’s skin is dotted golden, casting warm tones across his hair. Brown eyes are set on the river, the slight tilt to his head accentuating his jaw line. He looks… good. 

There’s a small twitch to George’s head, and Dream immediately switches his gaze back to the water. A nervous, fluttery feeling swells in his chest, turning his face pink. 

“Do you want to take a picture?” George asks, and Dream nearly chokes at the question, heart leaping out of his chest. Dream turns back to face him, shocked and flustered.

“What?”

“Do you want to take a picture together?” George clarifies. Shock still courses through Dream’s system, mind unsure if George saw him or not. George continues, gesturing to the river. “I mean, it’s a nice view.”

Dream swallows, shoving his thoughts aside for now. “It is.” He says, not even looking to where George is gesturing as he tries to calm himself down. “Yeah, sure.” He adds, and George smiles at him, pulling out his phone. They stand side by side, George’s arm outstretched as they take the picture. Dream’s still a little pink when the photo is taken, and all he can hope for is that the camera quality butchers it enough that it doesn’t show. George seems satisfied with the picture, tucking his phone back in his pocket. 

Eventually, with the sun dipping past the horizon, casting deep shades of blue across the sky, they find themselves at Grand Central Station. Exhaustion begins creeping into Dream’s system, preventing him from really enjoying the architecture. They look at the subway map, quickly finding their train and heading down into the station. It comes soon enough, and they board it, able to easily find a pair of seats.

Considering they still have an hour or so until they reach their stop in Queens, Dream quickly makes himself comfortable in the seat, letting his eyes fall shut. Due to the loud announcements that play at every stop, he’s kept on the precipice of sleep, being pulled back to consciousness every few minutes. It’s one of those times that he feels George shift next to him, and he’s about to open his eyes and ask if that’s their stop, when he notices George is looking at him.

He stills, waiting. George doesn’t look away, an incredibly fond expression on his face as he stares. It brings that warm feeling back to Dream’s chest, but unlike before, he’s too tired to really question it. The train moves, leaving that stop, and Dream watches through his lashes as George hesitantly pulls his phone from his pocket. There’s a hesitation, a small pause where George’s lip catches on his teeth. A faint click follows it, and George’s phone immediately finds itself back in his pocket. 

Dream keeps his eyes shut, waiting until the announcement for their stop plays to open them. “That’s our stop, right?” He asks, voice a little groggy with his attempt at sleeping. George nods, and when the car comes to a stop, the two of them exit the subway station. The air is cool around them as they walk back to the hotel, the city not quite as loud as it was during the middle of the day. 

When they reach the hotel room, George turns to him. “You can take a shower first.” He offers, and Dream takes him up on it, quickly heading into the hotel bathroom. 

The air around him is cold when he steps out, a towel wrapped around his waist. He carries his clothes in his arms as he steps towards his bed, searching through his suitcase. A feeling similar to what he felt the previous night makes itself apparent, bringing a light feeling to Dream’s chest. He puts on a pair of boxers before standing up fully, facing George’s bed. 

George is awake, curled up on his side and watching him. Dream should probably feel startled, or maybe even flustered, but something different swells inside of him. He turns to face the window, pulling his tank top on. The feeling of George’s gaze doesn’t leave him. 

“You’re staring.” 

Dream’s words are soft, hardly more than a breath across his lips. There’s no tease to them; they lack any of the sexual or romantic intent that would normally be there. They’re soft in a way that provokes so much more. Dream hears George shift behind him, the sound of ruffling sheets ringing through the room. The weight of George’s gaze lifts. He’s turned around. 

“It’s okay,” He assures, keeping that same tone. “I don’t mind.”

There’s no response. No motion or words to reply. Dream turns around now, and sees that George has turned to face the other wall, blankets pulled up over his head. If Dream didn’t know any better, he’d think that’s maybe he imagined this whole scenario. Maybe George had been asleep the whole time. But he does know better; they’ve fallen asleep on call together enough times for Dream to know George snores when he sleeps. 

Sighing, Dream adjusts the temperature of the cooling unit against the wall, then climbs into bed. Hotel blankets hug him snugly, and as he shuts his eyes, the exhaustion begins to claim him.

“Goodnight, George.”

He’s given no reply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welcome to chapter 2! hope you guys enjoy. please be sure to leave a comment if you do, they fuel me lmao


End file.
